


takoyaki

by trulyfine (ssstrychnine)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Bad Cooking, Cooking, Fluff, M/M, real background chanyeol/jongdae but only a mention really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7983922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssstrychnine/pseuds/trulyfine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>chanyeol tells baekhyun that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	takoyaki

****Baekhyun has liked Kyungsoo for as long as he can remember. He doesn’t think there has ever been a time where he’s seen Kyungsoo smile and it hasn’t made him want to work harder, be better, be the sort of person who deserves to see that smile. Or maybe he just thinks it’s a pretty smile. Maybe he just wants to kiss him while he’s smiling so prettily. Maybe it’s all of those things. All he really knows is that when Kyungsoo is in the room with him it’s a little bit easier to breathe, easier to be himself, easier to exist at all.  
  
He doesn’t tell Kyungsoo, he tells Chanyeol, who takes it exactly as expected.  
  
“I can’t believe I’m not your favourite,” he whines, slinging an arm around Baekhyun’s shoulder then pulling him into a loose headlock.  
  
“You’re my... platonic favourite,” says Baekhyun, struggling away from him. “I guess.”  
  
“You’re heartless. What are you going to tell Kyungsoo?”  
  
“Nothing. I don’t mind liking him quietly.”  
  
“You don’t do anything else quietly.”  
  
“This is different.”  
  
Chanyeol doesn’t think it’s different at all but Baekhyun convinces him not to say anything. He is used to feeling like this and unused to someone knowing he feels like this so quiet is the best for everyone. All that changes is the way that Chanyeol stares when Baekhyun and Kyungsoo touch or laugh or do anything at all together. It’s annoying, but it’s bearable. Until, apparently out of nowhere, Chanyeol decides that Baekhyun’s feelings for Kyungsoo need to be acted on.  
  
“Because you’re getting pathetic,” he explains, pinning Baekhyun down one day, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Because everyone will find out anyway, you’re better off telling him before someone else does.”  
  
“No,” says Baekhyun. “You’re crazy.”  
  
“I’m not, just listen to me, you have to cook for him,” he says. “He’ll have no choice but to fall in love with you then.”

Chanyeol suggests cooking because he _can_ cook. He knows how to cook in a weird, intuitive way, like a grandmother throwing a handful of something into stew and knowing that it’s exactly the right amount. He cooks like a whirlwind and the kitchen is never clean after he uses it, but the food is always good. He tells Baekhyun to cook for Kyungsoo because the way to _his_ heart is through his stomach.  
  
“But I can’t cook,” Baekhyun says, though that really isn’t the point. “Can you cook and say it was me?”  
  
“Nope, you have to do this. Love is hard, Baekhyunnie, but it’s worth it.”  
  
“Stop pretending you’re an expert just because Jongdae kissed you once. It was a stupid Christmas tradition no one here even cares about and you’ve both been unbearable since.”  
  
“We’ve been _adorable_ ,” says Chanyeol, infuriatingly unruffled. “I’m telling you, cook for him, it’s the only way. He likes Japanese food, right? Make him Japanese food.”  
  
“No,” says Baekhyun. “Definitely not. I don’t even _want_ him to fall in love with me, I really don’t.”  
  
He buys the takoyaki pan online. He and Kyungsoo have eaten takoyaki together often and he thinks the little round dumplings are cute and it’s just a snack so it can’t possibly be as hard to cook as a full meal. Not with the proper pan and the proper ingredients. It arrives at the dorms a few days later and Kyungsoo picks it up because he always picks up the mail and because Baekhyun had forgotten about it almost as soon as he’d ordered it.  
  
“What is it?” Kyungsoo asks, squinting at the label. Baekhyun grabs the box off him. It’s a plain cardboard box but he can’t remember what the company who makes it is called and it might say something incriminating on the label. Chanyeol had been very adamant that cooking would only work if it was a surprise.  
  
“Nothing,” he says, clutching the box to his chest. “It’s a new keyboard.”  
  
“Okay,” says Kyungsoo, looking amused (looking cute and confused and happy and amused). “Shall we play later?”  
  
“Yeah,” Baekhyun smiles. “Definitely.”  
  
He watches tutorial videos online until it seems impossible that he might fail. All he needs to do is pour the batter into the rounded hollows of the pan, add the chopped up octopus and green onion and ginger, turn the pancakes when they need turning, and place the perfect, beautiful, hot and golden finished takoyaki on a plate. Add spicy mayonnaise and bonito flakes and takoyaki sauce and that’s that.  
  
“He’s going to love me so much,” Baekhyun tells his computer screen. “He’s going to marry me on the spot. I’ll cook the wedding feast.”  
  
“You’re deranged,” says Chanyeol, lying on his bed across the room. “He’s going to run away.”  
  
To his credit, it’s Chanyeol who really orchestrates Baekhyun and Kyungsoo’s first meal together. He arranges an outing for the other members and sends Kyungsoo out to buy something arbitrary he insists they need so Baekhyun can cook alone. Baekhyun is grateful for it even if Chanyeol's only doing it so he can claim bragging rights at the end. When he and Kyungsoo are happily married. Or when he and Kyungsoo are still only friends because Kyungsoo doesn’t feel the same. Baekhyun doesn’t mind, not really, his feelings for Kyungsoo have been the same for so long they feel as much a part of him as his hands or his eyes or his heart. He will confess over beautifully prepared takoyaki and Kyungsoo will respond and something in their lives will change, even if it is only a small change.  
  
Baekhyun has sort of cooked before; he knows the right ratio of rice to water to put in the cooker, he knows how early to take kimchi out of the fridge, so that it’s at room temperature when it’s eaten, the only thing his mum would ever let him contribute to their evening meals. His instant ramyun is always better than everyone else’s and no one can figure out why because he doesn’t _do_ anything to it. He has set tables and arranged side dishes and flipped meat on grills at restaurants. He’s done some small parts of what make up a meal, but he’s never done it all. Kyungsoo cooks for the members often, because he _likes_ to cook. He lines up all of his ingredients on the bench and works through it calmly, methodically, and at the end there is a meal. It seems impossible to Baekhyun, that all those small pieces might turn into something big, but Kyungsoo can do it.  
  
The takoyaki start off disastrously and get worse. He pours the flour too quickly and half of the bag comes out even though he only needs a cup. It fills the kitchen with clouds of white powder and Baekhyun chokes until his eyes water and his throat burns. When the flour has cleared there is a fine white film over every surface and over the ingredients and over Baekhyun’s skin and clothes and hair. It doesn’t matter. He washes his hands. He dusts off his hair. He fills a pot with water to boil.

The octopus is the worst part. He has bought a fresh, whole octopus, reasoning that if he’s going to do it right then everything should be right; new and clean and perfect. But in reality it’s ugly and slimy and he hates touching it. He holds it away from himself and drops it into the pot at arms length and hot water hits his skin, burning a little. Silently he vows to never touch an octopus again, unless Kyungsoo asks him to.   
  
There had been a hundred different websites with a hundred different rules for pre-boiling octopus and the suggested cooking time ranged anywhere between four minutes and over an hour. It makes no sense to him. He calls Chanyeol who has never cooked octopus but tells him with great certainty that it should be cooked for twenty five minutes per kilogram (“Or maybe it was per pound, I don’t know, it doesn’t matter”). Baekhyun isn’t exactly sure how much the octopus weighs at all, he’d thrown away the receipt that came with it, but he decides it can’t be much more than one kilogram and sets his timer for twenty five minutes. It’s middle ground, he tells himself, surely takoyaki can’t be ruined by boiling water alone.  
  
While the octopus is boiling he finishes the batter. Despite the cloud of flour at the start, the rest is easy. He whisks it up until there are no flour bubbles and then he chops the green onion and the pickled ginger and he still has fifteen minutes until the octopus is cooked so he plays music videos on his phone and tries out the choreography he likes, twisting sliding footprints into the flour that has made it’s way onto the floor. When the timer sounds he takes the pot off the heat and lets it cool down and then he drags the octopus out and attacks it with a knife. It’s one of Kyungsoo’s knives, sharp and deadly, and it doesn’t go through the octopus that easily, but Baekhyun figures it must get softer while it’s cooking in the batter.  
  
Using the takoyaki pan is the final trial. It came with a metal skewer to flip the dumplings and in all of the videos it had seemed so easy. You overflow the hollow half-circles, you cook the batter for a little while, you turn them ninety degrees and cook for a little longer, then you turn them all the way until they’re perfect golden spheres. Adding the batter is fine. Adding the octopus and onion and ginger is fine. Turning the balls when they need it is impossible and he’s halfway through destroying one completely when he realises he’s forgotten to oil the pan. There is flour all down his front and his hands smell like fish and he’s never going to be able to pry the takoyaki from the pan without any oil to help.  
  
“Why did I do this?” he asks the remains of the octopus, it’s mangled beak and eyes and insides, but it doesn’t reply.  
  
“What are you doing?” comes a voice from the doorway and Baekhyun might almost think it was the octopus, come to life and looking for revenge, except he knows Kyungsoo’s voice as well as his own. He is leaning against the door frame and Baekhyun sort of wants to scream at him and sort of wants to throw himself at him and cry into his shirt.  
  
“You’re not supposed to be back yet.”  
  
“Are you... are you making takoyaki?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Yes you are,” Kyungsoo laughs. He comes over to the bench and looks at the takoyaki, lumpy and messy and doomed to never leave the pan. Baekhyun wants to throw it all away, pan and all. “Are they close to ready?”  
  
“They’ll never be ready,” Baekhyun mutters, tapping the skewer against the edge of the pan. “I forgot to oil the pan.”  
  
“Ah,” says Kyungsoo, gravely. “It’s okay, I think I can fix that.”  
  
Kyungsoo takes the skewer from Baekhyun and their hands touch at the handle and Baekhyun forgets every bad thing that has ever happened in his life. He takes the skewer and he gets some oil and dips the skewer into it. He works quickly and carefully, sliding the metal point down into the half-circles of the pan and wiggling it around until the takoyaki come free. Baekhyun chews on his lower lip, watching Kyungsoo’s hands, nothing like his own, blunt nails and short fingers and so lovely he can hardly stand to look without touching. He has always said he wouldn’t mind if Kyungsoo refused him, but he wonders if he would stop touching him if he knew how he felt. That might hurt a lot. He bites harder on his lip and Kyungsoo turns the takoyaki on their side like half open eggs.  
  
“See?” he says. “Not ruined at all.”  
  
“Thank you, Soo,” says Baekhyun and he reaches out and Kyungsoo laughs and hugs him to his side. Their shoulders press together, Kyungsoo’s arm moves around his back, his hand rests at his waist. _It would hurt_ too _much_ , thinks Baekhyun.  
  
“Why are you making them? Everyone’s out.” Kyungsoo elbows him gently at his side and Baekhyun turns a little so he can look at him properly. Everything about him is gentle really, and soft; his eyes his mouth, his hands. The way he wets his lower lip with his tongue, like he’s carefully considering everything he says so that every word has equal importance. Baekhyun takes the skewer from him and pokes at one of the takoyaki, so close to needing their last turn.  
  
“For you,” he says. “I was making them for you because Chanyeol said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.”  
  
“To his heart...” Kyungsoo echoes. He doesn’t sound confused or surprised or angry, just thoughtful. His fingers curl at Baekhyun’s waist.  
  
They watch the takoyaki cooking in silence and when it seems like they’re done Kyungsoo takes the skewer again and starts to flip them out of the pan and onto the paper towel Baekhyun’s laid next to it. Baekhyun chews on his lip, steps backwards, just a little, so Kyungsoo’s arm is pressed more firmly to his back. Kyungsoo’s hold on his waist tightens. All of Baekhyun’s hopes are so close to spilling from his lips that he can only think of the way they’re touching and how it might be the last time. He keeps his silence. He watches Kyungsoo’s hands.  
  
Baekhyun adds the takoyaki sauce and Kyungsoo adds the mayonnaise and they both sprinkle bonita and laver over the top. The takoyaki _look_ right. Lumpy and patchily golden and kind of ugly, but right. They sit together at the table and eat them and the octopus is far too chewy but the flavour is okay. Baekhyun burns his mouth immediately but Kyungsoo smiles and that’s all he really cares about.  
  
“I can’t believe you cooked a whole octopus,” he says, when they’re done eating, and Baekhyun laughs.  
  
“It was horrible, I couldn’t look at it,” he says. “I shut my eyes until it was in the pot. I shut my eyes when I cut it too.”  
  
“You shouldn’t be reckless like that.”  
  
“I didn’t cut myself.”  
  
“No,” says Kyungsoo, smiling. “You have a lot of flour in your hair though, and on your face.” He reaches across the table, swipes his thumb across Baekhyun’s cheek, and then he laughs and ruffles his hair too. Flour falls to the table like snow. Baekhyun knows he’s blushing, knows he’s probably redder than the octopus had been after boiling, but he doesn’t care. Kyungsoo is touching him and it doesn’t feel like the end of anything.  
  
“You didn’t have to cook for me,” he says, when he takes his hand away. “Chanyeol’s an idiot.”  
  
“So it didn’t work then?” Baekhyun asks, cocking his head to one side, fluttering his eyelashes, cute enough that if he’s rejected he won’t look as devastated as he’ll feel  
  
“No,” says Kyungsoo, but he’s smiling. “It’s just another thing to add to the hundreds of things you’ve already done to... make me like you.”  
  
“Are you making fun of me?”  
  
“Baekhyun, don’t be stupid.”  
  
“I’m not! I’m really... I don’t... I don’t know what you’re saying, please say it again.”  
  
Kyungsoo gets out of his chair and walks until he’s standing behind Baekhyun. He puts his hands on Baekhyun’s shoulders, his thumbs touch the skin at the back of his neck and his fingers are warm on his throat. He leans down until his mouth is close to Baekhyun’s ear and he can’t really breathe or think or feel anything except warmth.  
  
“You’re the worst,” he says, soft and rough all at once. “But I really do like you a lot.”  
  
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you, can you-”  
  
Kyungsoo pinches the back of Baekhyun’s neck until he laughs and wriggles away. He stands up, turns to him, takes his hands, pulls him closer. Kyungsoo brushes more flour from his face and really he can’t imagine how ridiculous he looks, ruffled and flour-covered, but Kyungsoo doesn’t seem to care. He is smiling when he kisses Baekhyun, when their noses touch, their lips, their tongues. Baekhyun wants to laugh but he pulls Kyungsoo closer instead, curls his hands around his elbows, up his arms, over his shoulders. Kyungsoo kisses him like a sigh, like something that has been a long time coming and is such a relief it turns your skin to light and air. Baekhyun thinks he might dissolve like this, get cut loose, drift off and never come back down, but then Kyungsoo bites his lower lip, just a graze, the blunt edge of a knife, the hot glow of an ember burning under his ribs, and Baekhyun is pulled back to earth again. He grins against Kyungsoo’s mouth, drags his tongue along his jaw, bites his earlobe and shivers when he laughs, soft and rough. All at once.  
  
“You taste like octopus,” he says. “We should brush our teeth.” Baekhyun takes this to mean they’ll be kissing a lot more and he hugs Kyungsoo, bows his head, presses his forehead to his shoulder so that he won’t see the stupid expression he’s sure to have plastered across his face.  
  
They clean up the kitchen together, never far apart. Kyungsoo brushes passed Baekhyun to open the dishwasher and he presses the tips of his fingers to the inside of Baekhyun’s wrist. Baekhyun tickles Kyungoo’s waist and then doesn’t even try to dodge his hand when he swipes out at him. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. Baekhyun forgets how to do anything with his face that isn’t smiling. They move around the kitchen and around each other, close and closer and closest.  
  
“Did Chanyeol tell you how I felt?” Kyungsoo asks, later, in his room, on his bed.  
  
“He _knew_?” Baekhyun wrinkles his nose, laughs. “I really hate him a lot.”  
  
“You don't hate anyone.”  
  
“Yeah, but neither do you.”  
  
Kyungsoo smiles, sleepy eyed and happy. Baekhyun looks at their hands entwined, chewed fingernails and sharp ones. He can't quite believe he isn't dreaming but it doesn't matter, even if he is he’ll take it. It's enough.

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for the prompt 'takoyaki' on tumblr! i'm @tabeorin if you have a one word prompt you wanna send me. i'd fill a lotta ships tbh not just baeksoo but yeah. only one word please! i might write that chanyeol/jongdae mistletoe kiss if i can be bothered umm but idk idk. thank you for reading!


End file.
